The Cottonball Crusade
by niah1988
Summary: A collection of all my entries for the Cottonball Crusade. [Chapter 4: High in the Sky]
1. Burning Hot

**Author's notes:** So **willgirl **started this thread at the Boneyard called "The Cottonball Crusade". Each month a new challenge will be issued. This month it had to feature either Booth or Brennan shirtless, and water had to be involved one way or another. You all know that someone has bunny-napped my inner fluff bunny so it was quite difficult for me to come up with a fluffy entry. Luckily I had **Jemb **around to help me write this thing here. She expanded some parts, tweaked some bits, and in general made this one-shot a hell of a lot better! So thanks girl, I owe you one! Oh, one final note...I'm not labeling this story "Complete" because I'm planning on gathering all my CC entries here.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bones, duh.

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**Burning Hot**

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Booth glanced around the abandoned warehouse, taking in all the activity. The nature of the scene meant that not only had he brought Brennan with him, but Zach and Hodgins were there too, each tasked with gathering evidence. Across from the remains, two CSI's were snapping their own pictures. Booth shook his head, wondering why they needed to be there anyway. He stood off to the side, his little black notebook in the palm of his hand. Everything was progressing as normal, evidence was being bagged and Zach and Hodgins were fighting over a bone covered in a mysterious substance; Hodgins wanting to remove the particulates before Zach bagged the bone for transport. But then all hell broke loose. One moment Booth was taking notes, the next a deafening explosion thundered through the air, followed by the terrifying sound of screaming metal and cracking wood.

Everyone in the room was sent flying to the ground the moment the explosion rumbled through the warehouse. For five seconds all that was heard was the sound of bricks and wood falling down. Groaning and blinking multiple times to try and clear his blurred vision, Booth lifted himself up on his arms. The first thing he saw was his colleagues crawling around in the heavy smoke created by the explosion, confused and disoriented. Then he caught sight of something that made his heart skip a beat. Through the hole that had been blown in one of the walls, he could see red and orange flashes dancing around in the thick smoke. Whatever was behind the explosion had set the tall piles of wood that had been stored in the warehouse on fire. He scrambled to his feet as quickly as possible and made his way over to Brennan. She was sitting on her knees near the remains, slightly hunched over and was clutching her head with both hands.

"Hey Bones, you alright?" he asked as he gently placed a hand on her shoulder. When she turned to face him, he saw the source of her pain---a cut running from her temple to her cheekbone. When she went down in the explosion, she obviously hit the rough ground hard and was cut by a piece of wood or metal on the floor. He was helping her to her feet when Hodgins and Zach staggered over to them. Hodgins looked quite in control of himself but Zach seemed a little disoriented and if Booth was honest, scared. "There's a fire," Booth informed them. He tried to sound calm and in control, despite the intense pounding of his heart. "We have to get everyone outside." He gestured to the exit with his head, his hands currently gripping Brennan's upper arms. The two scientists nodded in agreement before moving away to help everyone who was still down, to their feet.

"Booth, my head hurts," Brennan mumbled, leaning heavily against the agent's shoulder. She was finding it hard to concentrate and her legs felt shaky, like they were made of jello.

"I know. You had a nasty fall Bones. Let's get you outside---lots of fresh air there." He tried to keep his voice light, not wanting to panic Brennan. As he turned to the exit, he could see Zach and Hodgins almost at the exit with the two CSI's. Coughing hard because of the thick smoke, all four seemed to be holding each other up as they headed towards the dusky light of the street. Booth realised he and Brennan were falling behind so holding tight to Brennan, he started across the floor, careful to avoid the fallen bricks and wood scattered across the ground.

Halfway to the door, Booth began to cough harshly. Brennan was about to ask Booth if he was alright when another explosion rang out through the room. For the second time around, everyone fell to the ground. But to Booth's horror, the second explosion had happened in between he and Brennan, and the door. Booth could only stare on helplessly as the heat and sparks from the explosion set fire to a pile of barrels filled with oil. The fire quickly spread to the wooden boards scattered across the room, effectively blocking the way to the exit.

Booth spotted Hodgins and Zach on the other side of the fire, looking for a way to help. "Go!" he shouted, knowing if they stayed any longer they would be in danger themselves. They hesitated for a second, but after a curt nod of Booth's head, they made their way outside, just behind the CSI's. Booth swivelled around to help his partner, feeling the adrenaline spat through his veins. "Bones, we gotta go. Now!"

He roughly grabbed her wrist and dragged her away from the fire before them. Covering his mouth and nose with his sleeve, he weaved through stacks of rotten wooden boards and other junk. Brennan followed close behind him, coughing because of the thick smoke hanging around them. When a piece of the ceiling crashed down in front of them with no warning, Booth skidded to a stop. His grip on Brennan's arm tightened when she bumped into him. They slowly backed away from what had just fallen down, only to be forced forward again when another piece of the ceiling came down.

Booth's eyes flicked through the room. There was no way out, no escape. They were trapped, like animals, in a circle of hot-as-hell flames and black smoke. Brennan grabbed his shoulder to steady herself as she pulled her other hand free from his grasp so she could cover her mouth and nose. Her eyes were stinging from the smoke and her lungs were screaming for air. She...they...needed to get out as soon as possible.

Booth's arm encircled her waist before he moved to the right, in the hope of finding a different route to the exit. No such luck so it seemed, because they ran almost straight into another pile of burning wood. Horrified they watched the pile collapse almost on top of them, forcing them to stumble backwards. Even though her eardrums felt numb from hearing two explosions and the blazing fire was making conversation impossible, Brennan clearly heard Booth groan. Through the tears clouding her vision, she saw him reach for his shoulder.

"Booth?" she said, shouting loudly in an attempt to be heard above the roaring fire.

"I'm fine. Keep moving," he shot back. There was no time to worry about the searing pain he felt, not when that pain would only get worse if they didn't get out soon.

Having changed direction, Brennan was now in the lead. She rounded the pile that had just collapsed with Booth in tow. They both stared at the sea of fire in front of them. There didn't seem to be any way out. Then Booth noticed a small gap in the flames, leading to a door. With only a moment of hesitation when his mind thought about what could go wrong, he wrapped his arm around Brennan and lunged forward, through the fire and over the burning oil---safety only a few feet away.

Everything after their jump seemed to happen in a blur. Before they knew it, they were sitting in the back of an ambulance. Both were wet from the water the firemen had been spraying at the burning warehouse which had hit them when the pair ran outside. Booth was shirtless because the medics insisted on taking care of the burn on his shoulder while Brennan cradled his hand in her lap. Her eyes drifted to the warehouse which was now engulfed in flames. She could hear Booth talking to the paramedic but the words were not registering. She was focused on how close they came to not making it out. Slowly, she turned her head to look at Booth. She was surprised to see him staring at her.

"You need to look at her head," he told the paramedic, without taking his eyes off Brennan.

"It's just a cut Booth, your shoulder is burned, it needs immediate treatement," she nodded.

"Neither of you should worry, we'll get to your cut in just a moment," the paramedic smiled. As he continued to work on Booth's shoulder, Booth winced and gripped Brennan's hand tightly before realising what he was doing.

"Sorry Bones," he apologised quickly and loosened his grip on her hand. She curled her fingers around his hand and gave it a quick squeeze.

"It's the least I can do after you got us out of there. We could have..." she trailed off as her gaze drifted to the warehouse again.

"Hey..." Booth reached out with his free hand tucked a loose lock of hair behind her ear, his hand lingering at her cheek. "We're okay, okay?" he assured her. She shifted her gaze once more and met his reddened eyes. They held each other's gaze for a long moment then Brennan broke away, glancing down at their intertwined hands.

"Yeah, we're okay." she nodded.

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_Now this is what I call "subtle fluff". Don't you agree?_


	2. Pregnant?

**Author's note: **So they've changed the CBC from a challenge per month to one every two weeks. Crazy, I know! My muse was already going crazy because of all those other stories I'm working on so it took her a bit longer to come up with an idea for Redrider's challenge -- the Jealousy challenge. My take is different from everyone else's, but eh...you know me. Originality is key for me!

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Pregnant?**

Zach was finishing up the report of his last solo case and was doing some research while Hodgins and Angela entertained themselves with studying soil samples---well, Hodgins was doing that; Angela just liked watching him---when the dynamic duo came bursting through the doors of the lab. Brennan was dragging her typically heavy bag along with her and sported a very annoyed looking grimace. Booth, on the contrary, looked lost as he trailed behind her. They had crossed the lab and were hopping up the stairs of the platform in no time. Brennan didn't even take the time to swipe her card. She stormed towards her usual examination table, completely ignoring Booth who quickly had to shove his card at the scanner to quiet the alarm that had gone off. With avid interest, Angela, Hodgins and Zach watched him approach the table Brennan had thrown her bag on. As she rummaged through its contents, Booth calmly placed his hands on the table and gave her an expectant look.

"So Bones, when are you going to fill me in on whatever's got your panties in a twist?"

"Hands of my table," she snapped, continuing her rummaging undisturbed. Booth purposely leaned a bit forward. Realizing that he wasn't intending on budging anytime soon, Brennan turned her scowl on him. "What part of "hands off" don't you understand? Do you want me to say it in French? Bas les pattes!"

"Bones…" He narrowed his eyes to slits.

Brennan mimicked his stance. She put her hands wide on the table and silently stared at him after she had returned a very dangerous sounding "Booth…"

"It's just like in those Western movies," Hodgins whispered to Angela. "The big show down between the good and the bad guy."

Angela shushed him. "Keep quiet, will you? I want to hear what this is about."

Brennan clenched her jaw. Her gaze didn't waver, not for one millisecond. She first pursed her lips to a thin line, and then snorted quietly as she stared at her partner. Booth returned the fierce glare, but after a while his scowl softened. "Is this about that guy getting past you?"

"No," she curtly shot back.

"It is, isn't it?" Booth tried again, an amused glint in his eyes. She snorted again and returned to her bag, which indicated Booth was right. "Bones, that guy was in a hurry. He didn't want to be arrested. You can't expect criminals to go out of your way then, or at least don't wait for them to apologise when they run into you." Brennan pretended not to hear him so Booth continued. "That guy was twice your size, Bones. It would've been a miracle if you could've stopped him."

"You could."

"I'm bigger than you, Bones."

"He went down when you punched him." She flung her bag off the table and sharply said, "He didn't even flinch when I kicked him."

"Like I said, I'm bigger than you."

"Yeah, okay, sure," Brennan dismissed him with a wave of her hand. "You're the man here. Zach," she turned her attention on her younger colleague. "How's your research going?" She went over to him to take a good look at what was up on his screen. Since he didn't want to feel left out, Booth followed her. He positioned himself behind Brennan so he could peek over her shoulder. Brennan tensed up. "Booth, back off," she warned him. He ignored her and moved in even closer. His hand found its way to her lower back as he leaned forward to take a decent look at the screen. "Booth," Brennan snapped. "Don't touch me. My back hurts."

He glanced down and arched an eyebrow. "Maybe I shouldn't stop touching you. You know, give you a little massage to loosen up your muscles?" He rubbed her spine for a second to demonstrate his words. "I'm not kidding here, Bones. You took a nasty fall when that guy pushed you away."

Brennan gritted her teeth. "I'm fine." Without another word she swatted his hand away and brushed past him. "Zach," she threw over her shoulder, "would you mind if I tried some of that macaroni and cheese you eat every lunch?"

"Uh, no Dr. Brennan," the young scientist replied, confused to no end.

"Hey Bones, it's nearly noon. If you're that hungry, I'd be more than happy to take you out to lunch," Booth offered.

Brennan waved his offer away. "The diner's too far. I'm hungry _now._" She disappeared for a second and came back with Zach's lunch and a fork. Under the incredulous stares of her team she devoured the entire bowl in less than five minutes. Suppressing a burp and wearing a content smile, she put the empty dish down and happily returned to her work. Not half a minute later, she spun around again. "You know what would really go down well right now?" Booth, Angela and Hodgins shook their head. "A big bar of dark chocolate," Brennan stated confidently as if she had just proclaimed something that was undeniably obvious and true.

"Chocolate…You want chocolate?" Booth slowly repeated after her.

She began scowling at him again. "Yes, I want chocolate. Got a problem with it?"

"You want…chocolate," her partner articulated again.

"Yes, chocolate. Is that such an unusual request?" Upon seeing Booth prepare to say yes, she cut him off. "Are you implying I shouldn't have it because I'm fat?"

His eyes popped open wide. "You think I think you shouldn't have it because-" He frowned. "Bones, where the hell did that come from? You're not fat. Far from even. You could wiggle through a keyhole if you wanted to!" Satisfied with his answer, she went back to work. Booth glanced at Hodgins and Zach who were staring at the anthropologist while Angela mysteriously smiled.

"Bones," he quietly said as he hurried over to her. "What's gotten into you today? I know women have their quirks every now and then, but today…"

"_Women _have their _quirks_?" Brennan slowly turned to face him---a deep frown in her forehead and her hands placed defiantly on her hips. "You make us sound like mental patients who are ready for the asylum!"

"That's not what I meant and you know it," Booth retorted, also putting his hands on his hips and straightening to his full height.

"And we're back in the good old Wild, Wild West," Hodgins quietly announced. "This is better than a wrestling match. Dude, I wish I had brought popcorn or hotdogs!"

"Hodgins," Angela warned him. The entomologist pretended to lock his mouth and throw the key away. They went back to studying the more than amusing back-and-forth between Booth and Brennan.

"Fine." Brennan threw her hands in the air. "Fine! You really want to know what's bothering me?" Booth crossed his arms and nodded. She squeezed her eyes half shut and poked his chest. "I'm jealous of your manliness."

His arms fell to his sides---even his mouth hung a bit open---before he shot out, "You're _what_?" Brennan rolled her eyes, swivelled around and disappeared as fast as she could to her office. Booth was left standing there, blinking several times and even rubbing his ear to make sure he had heard her correctly. Then he shook his head and exclaimed, "Bones, wait up. Hey Bones!" He jumped off the platform and chased after his partner, shouting, "Get back here, Bones. I demand an explanation!"

Hodgins threw a look of disbelief at the pair's backs and then a questioning one at Angela. "What's up with the good doctor? Her back aches, she's got an appetite for two, she's moody, she's got a craving for chocolate, and now she's jealous of Booth's manliness? If I didn't know any better, I'd say she's pregnant!" Pause. "She isn't, is she?"

Angela smiled amused. She continued taking notes and kept her eyes cast downwards as she replied, "It's a female problem alright, just not the nine month long type."

Hodgins frowned. Then it dawned on him. "Why didn't you say so? Aunt Betty's obviously in town!"

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_  
I realise that everyone's a bit OOC, but aren't we all when it's "that time of the month"? he he_


	3. Two Left Feet

Just a little ditty for the Dancing Challenge. I'm working on another one-shot about dancing, but I need more time to flesh it out so... (points at this one-shot) lol

Thanks **Jemb** for the beta job.

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Two Left Feet**

"Hey Tom, another round for the gang!"

"Coming right up, buddy!"

Minutes later seven bottles of beer were pushed across the bar towards a rather loud group of men. Under bursts of whistles and laughter the beer bottles were handed out. Among the men was Booth sitting comfortably on his bar stool, loosely clutching a beer and an elbow resting on the bar. It was a regular Friday night. Instead of spending a quiet evening at home or dragging Brennan to the diner, he had opted for a night out with a couple of colleagues. It certainly was a change, this "guy's night out". Booth chuckled, shook his head, and breathed in the sharp smell of cigarettes and beer. Oh yeah, this was something he had missed. A night full of comradely slaps on the back, of bragging about recent accomplishments, and of sharing stories about times they had scored with the ladies was something he needed. Booth chuckled again as he envisioned how the squints would react if he tried this kind of night out with them. Hodgins would probably never stop slapping his shoulder or nudging him, Brennan would drag anthropological mumbo jumbo into their conversation when the bragging began, and Zach...Well, the kid would probably dig up a notebook if Booth dared to bring up women. An evening at a bar down town with like-minded people---men who risked their lives for justice every day like he did---was exactly what Gordon Gordon would prescribe.

The man that had ordered a new round of drinks---a tall blonde haired blue eyed guy named John---raised his bottle for a toast. In a slightly slurring voice, he announced, "I think we deserve a pat on the back guys. The seven of us...We're great, you know. We locked no more than twenty criminals up this week. Are we good or are we good?" Another burst of whistles as the men all joined John in raising their beer bottles high. "And we did it all on our own!"

Dave---another fellow agent---shook his head. "We didn't all do it on our own, John." With a half crooked smile he gestured at Booth. "Booth here needs a squint to do the dirty work for him."

Booth's smile faded away. "What was that, Dave?"

"You heard me." Dave casually leaned against the bar and took a swig from his beer. "You've got a squint for a partner who collects all the evidence, kicks ass from time to time, and basically solves the whole case for you. Like I said, she does your dirty work. What happened to good old police work, man?"

"Still very much alive, pal." Booth narrowed his eyes to dangerous slits. "Bones doesn't do everything."

Not at all impressed by Booth's glaring, Dave grinned. "Did you hear that? _Bones_ doesn't do all the work. His squint has got a nickname!"

"Dave..." Booth warned.

"What's up with that weird nickname anyway? Last time I saw her she still had some flesh over those pretty bones of hers." Dave chuckled at his own joke which was, in Booth's opinion, lame beyond words. "Come on Booth, from FBI buddy to FBI buddy...Why is she your partner? Are you a science junkie all of a sudden?"

"For your information, Dave..." Booth sent him a glare as he slowly articulated his name. "Science is not that bad. Some cases would have been closed without us having caught the killer if it wasn't for evidence provided by science."

Dave stared at him before letting out a bark of laughter. "Just listen to yourself, Booth! You're turning into a squint yourself!"

"Whatever Dave," Booth grumbled, turning away from the man so he could go back to nursing his beer without feeling the urge to throw it in Dave's face. "I'm just saying that you should give science a chance."

"Sure Booth, sure." Dave leaned in to ask another question. "Be honest Booth. What else besides squinting at gross bones can she do?" He waited for Booth to answer, but when no response came, Dave went on, "Can she cook? Can she clean? Can she change diapers?"

Booth rolled his eyes. He was beginning to understand Brennan's point about 99 percent of the male race being solely interested in finding someone to look after their needs and offspring. "She writes," he curtly replied.

"She writes...That's nice." Pause. "Like Paris Hilton writes, I'm sure."

Paris Hilton? They were comparing Brennan---renowned forensic author---to Paris Hilton who had hired someone to write her biography? Besides insulting his gut instincts and hard work when it came to investigating a murder Dave was now drawing parallels between Brennan and a long-legged air-instead-of-brains blonde bimbo! That was it. That was just the final straw. Booth got up to his feet and was about to use every inch of his broad frame to threaten Dave into sneering about Brennan again so he'd have an excuse to follow his alcohol and testosterone hazy instincts when John let out a low catcall.

"Speaking of the redheaded fury...there she comes."

Both Booth and Dave turned to see a slender woman appear at the other side of the room. She scanned the area and as soon as her gaze landed on Booth standing at the bar she began weaving her way through the dancers shuffling to a slow song on the small dance floor. Waving billows of smoke away with the folder she had with her, she rounded one or two tables before coming to a stop at the bar, at Booth's side.

"I need you to sign this," she immediately began.

Booth, used to her skipping greetings, grabbed the file from her grasp and began leafing through it. "What case is this, Bones?"

"The Morrison case. Remember? Fractured ulna..."

"Dislocated scapula," Booth finished. "Yeah, I remember. I'll quickly look through these."

"Dislocated scapula...My, my, aren't we using big squinty words there, Booth?" Dave joked. Booth cursed him as he searched his pockets for a pen. He thankfully glanced at Brennan when she slid one over the bar. The partners quietly flipped through the file until Dave decided to butt in again. "Say Dr. B..." Brennan raised her eyebrows at the unfamiliar nickname given by someone she had only seen once at the Hoover building. "Can you sow?"

Her eyebrows shot up even higher. "Yes, I can. Can you?"

"Dave..." Booth threw at his colleague, pen up in the air ready to sign whatever needed to be signed and give Dave a few painful pokes with it afterwards. "Leave her be. She just needs my signature and then she'll be on her way."

"Ah come on Booth. I was just asking about what she can and can't do. The only things you let go about her are that she's good at science and writing. I mean, what else can she do? I bet she can't even dance properly!"

Booth threw pen and file down and was in front of Dave in no time. Glaring down at him, Booth purposely invaded the man's personal space. "Are you saying Bones has got two left feet?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying," Dave threatened back while he straightened to his full height. The entire group, including Brennan, fell silent as they watched Booth and Dave scowl at each other.

Booth snorted and without breaking eye contact with Dave he reached for Brennan's wrist. "Let's prove the man wrong, Bones." Without another word he dragged his sputtering partner off to the dance floor. Once they were in the middle of the small crowd, he firmly grabbed her hand and planted his hand in the crook of her back. "Just shut up and dance, Bones." On the upbeat tones of cheesy love songs he guided her across the floor, carefully watching out for other dancers. Tackling another couple was not exactly something he wanted to do in front of his co-workers.

"Booth..." Booth whirled her away and pulled her back. Brennan ended up flush against him. Staring at him, she queried, "What has gotten into you?"

"I'm defending your honour." He turned around two times, tightly holding on to Brennan. Upon seeing her blank look he explained, "Dave accused you of not being a good dancer."

"I know. I overheard your conversation." Brennan cocked her head. "You've got some strange friends, Booth."

As he whirled her so far away that only their fingertips were touching, Booth glanced at his colleagues who were talking among themselves, already having completely forgotten about the incident and at the moment very busy with throwing peanuts at the bartender. He mumbled, "You can say that again." With a short pull he sent Brennan twirling back to him. Since Dave and the rest of his colleagues, who had the attention span of a gnat as soon as they had had more than three beers, weren't eyeing them anymore, Booth loosened up. When the final note of the song died away, Booth sighed and let go of Brennan. "Let's get out of here, Bones. I've had enough male bonding for tonight."

Brennan shrugged and followed him back to the bar where she gathered the file while Booth grabbed his jacket and paid for his drinks. He didn't bother bidding his fellow agents goodbye since they were all caught up in teasing Albert, whose partner's hair looked like she shoved her fingers in the plug-socket every morning. Pushing their way through the crowd to the exit, Booth shook his head and asked himself what had ever given him the idea that his colleagues were like-minded people. The reasons why he kept himself distanced from a lot of his co-workers had been shoved up his nose tonight. He'd happily sit through one of Hodgins' conspiracy theories and would explain thousands of pop culture references to Brennan without complaining if that meant he didn't have to listen to the rambles of intoxicated smug FBI-agents. Heck, he'd even teach Zach one of his pick up lines as long as he could hang out with them because despite the difference in job titles they were truly his kind of people.


	4. High in the Sky

**Author's note:** Another cute lil' something to tie you guys over until I post either the next chapter of Dying to Catch My Breath or a new one-shot. This time it's an entry for the challenge I issued about two weeks ago -- the birthday challenge. Thanks **Jemb **for checking my grammar/spelling!

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**High in the Sky**

A muffled curse rang through her office as Brennan's foot roughly came in contact with one of the legs of her desk. Muttering something about wishing the seven plagues to hunt him down, Brennan rubbed the sore spot and aimed her glare at where she suspected Booth to be. The blindfold he had forced on her minutes ago was making it impossible for her to see where he was. Same went for everything else in her office. She thought she knew her office better---or at least could figure out where the heck her desk was---after all her time at the Jeffersonian. Apparently, judging from the stinging pain in her ankle, she had been wrong.

Chuckling because of her kicking the desk, Booth grabbed her wrist and safely guided her around the table. "Come on, Bones. Let's get going. I wouldn't want to be late for your surprise."

"Surprise, surprise," Brennan scoffed. "For all I care you can shove your surprise up your..."

"Bones!" He lifted her blindfold a bit up to look her in the eye. "You have been cursing me non-stop for the last five minutes. If you keep this up, you can forget about that birthday present."

Brennan crossed her arms and gave him a pointed look. "I just don't understand the benefit of blindfolding me at the lab."

"It's part of the surprise," Booth answered, looking pointedly at her himself. With a snap he let go of the blindfold. "Now shut up and let me lead."

She had no choice, but to trust him as her world was plunged into darkness again. With his hands firmly gripping and guiding her hips, and her hands stuck strangely in front of her, Brennan left the safety of her office and crossed the lab. The word "stupid" didn't even begin to cover how she was feeling. Today was her birthday and to her great dismay Booth had barged into her office to whisk her away because of it. Last year he had gotten her some nice little trinket, just like all of her friends. Why he hadn't bought her something similar this year was beyond her comprehension. For some odd reason he wanted to prove he could do better and could get her something---and she quoted---"awesome to the power of ten". Worst thing was that everyone was in on Booth's big surprise. The image of her colleagues smiling at her as Booth covered her eyes with the blindfold danced around in her mind as she was led across the parking lot. Securely strapped in minutes later, Brennan folded her hands in her lap and patiently waited until Booth had gotten into the car as well and turned the ignition key.

When she opened her mouth, Booth shushed her immediately. "Not one single question, Bones. I don't want to hear the smallest peep out of you before I say you can take your blindfold off." He shifted from neutral to first gear and added, "Now sit back and enjoy the ride."

"I'd be able to enjoy it if I could actually see a damn thing," she muttered as she felt Booth's glare being turned in her direction. Holding her hands up in surrender, she sat back in her chair. "Fine. I'll keep my mouth shut."

"Thank you," Booth said relieved before speeding away.

For the next half hour Brennan listened to Booth humming along to the radio while tapping away on the steering wheel. Since her sight had been taken away, she could easily feel all the holes and bumps in the road. The engine was roaring loudly, meaning they were driving at great speed. She suspected them to be on the highway leading away from Washington D.C. and to an unknown destination. Fifteen minutes later---after Booth had repeatedly slapped her hands because she kept trying to switch radio stations---they seemed to leave the highway. Soon thereafter the car came to a stop. Still humming softly Booth killed the engine, got out, and opened the door on her side to help her out. Brennan was surprised to feel grass under her feet instead of asphalt. Where the hell were they?

With a firm grip on her upper arm, Booth led her across a field. Brennan quirked her eyebrows when she heard him ask if everything was alright. She was about to respond when an unfamiliar voice sounded nearby. "Everything's good to go, Booth. George is waiting for you. He'll stick with you so you won't have to worry about a thing up there."

Up there? What did he mean with "up there"? Dozens of possible birthday presents, each one crazier than the last one, involving things that had something to do with "up there" ran through her head until Booth pulled her blindfold off. What she found in front of her was better than a rock climbing trip to enjoy the view on top. It was even better than the sky diving experience she had suspected him to drag her to. With raised eyebrows and her voice full of wonder, she turned and exclaimed, "Hot air balloons?"

He pocketed his thumbs and nodded curtly. "Hot air balloons." Then his entire appearance changed to the one of an excited young kid dying to show his parents a new toy at the toy shop. Without further ado he ushered her over to the large red hot air balloon waiting for them in the middle of the field. Once they were both in the basket together with the man Brennan assumed was George, the balloon rose into the air lifting them high above the grass field. Brennan squeezed the side of the basket harder the further they moved away from the ground. They were floating up high---it was normal for this to be a tad unnerving, she told herself. At the same time she marveled at the beauty of the landscape beneath them. She never thought it would look so peaceful.

Booth put his hands next to hers and playfully nudged her. "Good or bad surprise?"

"Booth, this is...stunning." She shook her head before glancing at him. "Where did you get the idea?"

"Well, Bones..." He tentatively put his arm around her shoulders and pointed at D.C. lying a bit further along hundreds of feet beneath them. "With all that's been going down in your life lately...Death and remains and the whole shebang...I figured you needed a different point of view." Upon seeing Brennan's eyebrows raised again, he shrugged. "You need to unwind, Bones. You just need to lay back and enjoy life for a second. Knowing you, you can't do that when you've got paperwork to finish, remains to identify, and a book to write. In other words, you can't relax down there." To emphasize his point, he pointed down with the hand that was lying over her shoulder. "So I decided to bring you," he straightened up and stretched his arms out, "up here. Far away from all that unimportant stuff that keeps that pretty little head of yours occupied."

"Identifying murder victims isn't unimportant," Brennan replied matter-of-factly. Booth dropped his arms and heaved out a sigh. This was harder than he had anticipated. Why couldn't she just accept his gift? "But I appreciate the effort." He cheered up instantly.

"I knew you would, Bones...eventually," Booth couldn't help but add. Brennan rolled her eyes as she shoved her elbow in his side. Booth's smile didn't fade though. Mockingly rubbing his ribs, he asked, "Is that how you're going to thank me? Geez, if I had known I would've bought you a scented candle or something. Maybe then I wouldn't have a broken rib!"

She folded her arms and stared over the edge of the basket as she mumbled, "Your ribs are just fine." Then she looked up again, a hint of a smile dancing around her lips. "Thank you, Booth. No-one's ever gotten me a balloon ride for my birthday before."

"That's because you haven't met anyone as smart, and caring, and hot, and...Well, you know...You just haven't met anyone like me before."

Now it was Brennan's turn to mock. "Cam's right. You've got an ego the size of the Atlantic Ocean."

"Could be, but that ego has brought you up here. You can't say that of all your modest friends down there."

Brennan didn't answer. All she did was smile broadly before going back to staring down at miniature D.C. Booth shook his head and placed himself close to her, content on watching life unfold beneath them and happy because he had given his partner something special for her birthday.


End file.
